Albus Potter and the Dark Lords Heir
by Alexandyne
Summary: I couldn't imagine it was gone. But then, the magic never really is gone, is it? No, it never really ends. So what if? What if the journey continues? What if? What if... Voldemort had a Grand-daughter? Will she choose to be good, or will she follow in her grandparents' wake - and take it out on Harry Potter's youngest son?
1. Chapter 1

**I couldn't deal with it being over.**

**Couldn't cope with it being gone.**

**But then, the magic never really is gone, is it?**

**No, it never really ends.**

**So what if? What if the journey continues?**

**What if?**

**Nine Years after the Battle of Hogwarts.**

He was running hard, the basket bouncing against his side. The snow crunched loudly under his boots, no doubt telling his pursuers exactly where he was, but his only concern was distance. He had to get enough distance between them and him that he could get the basket somewhere safe, where _they_ wouldn't see it.

He knew he was never going to make it out of this mess alive. He could always apparate away from them, but they would still catch him sooner or later. And he was so very, very tired of running.

He rounded the bend and a towering orphanage sat at the bend of the street, a single flickering streetlamp illuminating the stoop. He sprinted up the steps and placed the basket down.

"I'm sorry," the man in the cloak said, bending over the basket. Inside, quiet cries were heard. "It's only for you. You'll be safe."

He looked at the folded note in his hand, rereading the words he had so carefully written only an hour before.

_Her mother died last evening._

_Her father was killed tonight._

_Her name is Bellatrix Riddle._

_She's special._

_Keep her safe._

The man looked at his daughter, tears in his eyes, and held her tiny fingers close in his hand. She stopped crying a moment, her green eyes peering up at him from under thick, dark hair. She had her grandfather's hair, and her mothers eyes. Pain filled his chest; it wasn't fair to her, to leave her an orphan, but the men pursuing him would never give him the chance to explain. They would never believe him if he said he was innocent. He stared into her wide innocent eyes, considering the option to keep running. He could, after all. He could keep running indefinitely if he wanted to, and take her with him. But would that be fair for her? A life on the run, condemned because of who her father was? No, it was better this way; it was better to let her grow up away from this madness. Maybe one day they would find her, a tiny witch, and think her muggleborn - it would save her from this madness.

That's what any good father would do, wouldn't he? Give their child every chance they had. He held her tiny hand and his heart swelled, making him question the decision he was making. But no; this was best for her. He knew it deep in the pit of his stomach.

He let her go, put her on the step, and rang the doorbell of the orphanage before vanishing into the shadows. Behind him, he could hear her tiny cries.

"There he is!" a yell came from down a side street. "Fire at will!"

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr turned to face the band of wizards that closed in on him, spread his arms, and closed his eyes. Green light flashed on the inside of his eyelids as a dozen voices echoed in his ears.

"Avada Kedabra!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him.**

* * *

><p>Belle sat with her arms curled around her knees, her black hair whipping around in the wind, looking out across the front lawn. She glanced at the sky, turning pink with the setting sun and casting long black shadows from the fence towards the porch she perched on. As of right now, she was exactly ten and a half. In three weeks, she would be starting the sixth grade. Not that she was looking forward to it, because she was always made fun of - children her age could be very cruel, especially to someone who was different. And Bellatrix Riddle was most certainly <em>"different". <em>

"What type of name is BELLATRIX?"

"Hey, CURLY!"

She shook slightly with anger just thinking about it. She couldn't help it! Just as she was having these thoughts, she saw something strange; up above her, a dark shape swooped over her head. As it circled closer, she realized it was an owl that was carrying something in its talons. It dropped that something at her feet, circling and landing on a fencepost on the other side of the lawn. She looked at what it had dropped, and saw with some surprise it was a letter... And it was addressed to her.

"Dear Miss Bellatrix Riddle,

We are pleased to inform you you have been placed on the waiting list for entry to the new Spanish Magic Academy, Academia de Magia.

We will give you further notice by the twentieth of August on whether you will be expected to attend.

Labelle Magnastra, head mistress."

She stared at the letter, very confused. She was in England (although, admittedly close to Spain), so why would she be going to a Spanish school? She didn't even speak Spanish! And a school of Magic? Her hand shook, and her mind filled with images from the past. She had gotten angry with an older boy at the orphanage, and the floor had given way beneath his feet. A dozen other times with similar circumstances filled her mind, and her stomach churned as she read the letter again and again.

"I imagine you are feeling quite confused," a soft voice said from somewhere to her right. She jumped and spun to look into the bushes, seeking out the voice's owner.

"Who's there?"

"It's all right," the voice said, now from her left. She turned, and saw a woman sitting calmly on the fence. She was an old woman, wearing green robes with a black pointed hat and very square spectacles perched on her nose. The woman rose, pushing herself upright with her gnarled, aged, and bony hand. She eyed Belle with a strange expression; it was as though a normally stern face was trying to form a sympathetic composure.

"What's this?" Belle asked, her hand trembling as she held out the letter. "Is this some kind of prank? You don't look like you'd be working with the kids from school to prank me."

"No, dear, I'm not pranking you. Magia is a new school of magic," the old woman said, walking with surprising grace for her apparent age over to Belle. "That brings it to four in Europe, I do believe. Just started this year, actually."

"What are you talking about?" Belle asked, shaking. The woman peered at her over her spectacles, then turned and slowly sat on the steps of the orphanage.

"You're a witch," the old woman said, easing herself to lean against the banister. "You get it from your father."

"What do you know about my father?" Belle said, slowly sitting down beside the woman. "Who are you?"

"My name is Minerva McGonagall," the woman said calmly. "I didn't know your father, I merely know of him. Not many do, they tried to hide him, you know. Wasn't intelligent to have people talking that the bloodline lives." Belle looked at her, utter confusion on her young face. The old woman sighed and settled down, and began to weave a tale for the girl.

The tale told of a powerful dark wizard rising to power, to be foiled by a little boy. She spoke of friendship and loyalty, of death and pain, but most of all, of love. She sat and told Belle the story of Harry Potter until the sky grew into an inky blackness. And then, she spoke of Tom Marvolo Riddle, and how he had a son by Bellatrix Lestrange. Very few knew of the son, they tried to hide him for fear of the rumor of Voldemort's bloodline still living. They sentenced him to death, and on the run, Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr fell in love with a muggle and had a daughter. He left the girl in the keeping of an orphanage, then went to meet his death.

"My- my father," Belle said, choking for a moment. "Was a killer?" Minerva McGonagall considered it for a moment.

"I don't believe he ever killed anyone," she said thoughtfully. "Or that that was proven, in any case. But most people believed it to be so."

Belle was shaking so hard now she couldn't even read the letter in her hand anymore.

"You said- you said Harry Potter and- and my grandfather went to a place called Hogwarts," she said, looking at the letter in her hand. "Why am I not accepted there? And why am I only on a waiting list? Do I not have enough magic?"

"No one wanted to accept the blood of the Dark Lord into their school," McGonagall said, smiling sadly at the girl. "But they knew it was dangerous to be having you come into your powers untrained. Magia drew the short straw, so to speak... So, here we are."

"I can't go to Hogwarts because... because of my parentage?" Belle said indignantly. "I never even met them! I want to go to Hogwarts! I'm not a _short straw!_" she declared angrily. McGonagall smiled broadly at the girl, and pulled herself to her feet. She pulled out her wand and walked to the street, beckoning Belle to follow her, and held out her wand.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said softly, and all of a sudden there was a loud crack, and suddenly a huge purple tripple-decker bus was standing before them.

"C'mon, c'mon, we haven't got all night, have we?" a middle aged man said, sitting in the seat. He saw McGonagall, and grinned. "C'mon, Professor! Hurry it up, then!" McGonagall made her way onto the bus, then looked over her shoulder back at Belle.

Belle was looking at the orphanage, torn. Could she really leave without telling them? Looking up at the bus that had appeared out of no where, McGonagall still holding her wand, she realized she could.

She would find out who she was.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Hogwarts Express is a 4-6-0 Hall Class steam locomotive model number GWR 5900. It is quite impressive.**

* * *

><p>"WHEE!" James bellowed, banging on the door to Albus Severus Potter's train car with his fist and grinning a wide, dopey grin. Rosie sat across from Al with her nose in a book, glancing up irritably at James.<p>

"Go away James!" she snapped, chucking her book at where his head was on the other side of the glass. James laughed and bounded away. He had been doing that the entire ride so far, as though his sole entertainment was seeing how angry he could make Rosie. Rosie glared after him and picked up her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade Five)_ by Miranda Goshawk. Jake Longbottom snickered from the corner, trying to cover a grin as Rosie shot him a piercing glare.

Al rolled his eyes and stood. "I'm going to go and say hi to people," he said, making his way into the middle of the train. He decided he'd go to the back end of the train first, and spent his time smiling and nodding at friends and acquaintances he hadn't seen in months through the glass doors.

He finally reached the end of the train, and saw a nearly empty car. The only occupant was a single girl, sleeping against the window, with the same book as Rosie was reading in her lap. The girl had curly black hair, and she was already wearing her robes, though they were clean, black and unmarked. For the life of him, he couldn't remember ever having seen her before in his life. But she was obviously in his year, judging by the book she was reading. He thought it odd; there weren't more than fifty students in his year. He knew all of them by name... he shrugged. Perhaps she was quiet and hung around the back.

He turned and made his way up to the front of the train, exchanging some good natured insults with Scorpius as he made his way to the front, waving to Fred with a grin. Fred looked a lot like the pictures of Al's dead uncle that no one seemed to talk about, and therefore a lot like George- with an ear, of course.

As he finished saying hello to people, he was forced to retreat in the path of the candy trolley back to his compartment. Jake and Rosie glanced up as he entered, obviously deep in conversation over some plant that had been mentioned in Rosie's book. Al rolled his eyes with boredom, and struck up conversation.

"So," Al said. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament is this year, except now there's four wizards because of that new Spanish school. What's up with the news on that? They still doing that ageline thing?"

"Yeah," Rosie said, rolling her eyes and stretching, putting her book to the side. She adjusted her Gryffindor robes, and popped her knuckles tiredly. "Think James'll be entering?"

"Obviously," Al said, rolling his eyes. "He won't shut up about it. All he can talk about is seeing if he can get a better score than Dad. You should have seen Dad's face when James told him he was going to put his name in the Goblet of Fire! Dad couldn't bear the idea, but Mum got him to calm down, saying nothing bad'll happen this time with Voldemort gone and all. I worry about him you know. He's still a bit paranoid about it. I probably would be too, 'course, if I had had a Dark Wizard trying to kill me..."

"No, really, you don't think?" Jake said sarcastically, asking the lady for six chocolate frogs off the trolley as it passed by. "Why would you EVER be slightly bothered by being the target of the world's most powerful dark wizard? Can't understand why it might make you nervous that your son is going to try to compete in a tournament where you watched someone die."

"No need for the sarcasm," Rosie retorted, giving him a soft smack on the shoulder. "It's going to be perfectly safe this year. All has been well and good for 23 years. Nothing will go wrong. If your brother gets chosen he'll be perfectly fine."

"I know," Rosie said, nodding. "Dad's just worried is all. Besides, it's not exactly a _safe _tournament."

"He's just a great big worrywart," James said, sliding into their compartment and folding his fingers behind his head. "I'll win. I'll beat Dad's score, too."

"He has a right to be," Jake said crossly.

"You know perfectly well he had all the right in the world to forbid you from entering," Rosie said, pushing her auburn hair back from her face, with an expression of extreme irritation on her face as she looked at James. "It is just by his good will that he didn't."

"You sound just like Mum," James said, rolling his eyes. "I'll do it you know. You mark my words."

"If you even get chosen," Rosie retorted, and James gave a derisive snort. With that, he stood and left the car.

The three sighed and exchanged a glance, chocolate smeared on Jake's face now and three empty chocolate frog packages spilled across his lap. Without a word, they got out their books and started reading, occasionally discussing the topics as the sun moved overhead and crept away to the west.

When the train screeched to a stop in Hogsmead station, they pushed their books back into their trunks and straightened out their robes, pulling their ties and and cloaks into their proper positions. They pushed their way off the train, and heard the familliar voice from the end of the station bellowing for the First Years.

Al smiled and waved at Hagrid, who was beginning to show traces of grey in his mane of hair. He saw the girl he had seen on the train staring at Hagrid with wide eyes, her mouth partially open.

"Is that- is that a giant?" she stammered, noticing Al watching her. Al grinned.

"No," he said sarcastically. "We're all just midgits. C'mon, you're in your fifth year! You should know 'im by now." Her face turned bright red and she started to stutter an answer, but before she could get the words out, Rosie was gesturing Jake and Al up into one of the horseless cariages.

"Hey, wanna ride with us?" Jake called at the girl, and she hesitated for a moment.

"Um, sure," she said, and climbed up into the carriage next to Jake.

"So, what house are you in?" Rosie asked, making conversation. "I've never seen you around here before." Al looked at the girl curiously; Rosie knew EVERYBODY.

"Um- actually, I'm uh, not in any house, uh," she said, her face turning scarlet again. "I um, transferred. Just recently."

"You can transfer from school to school?" Jake asked curiously.

"Um, yeah, I transfered from, uh... Magia. The spanish one," she mumbled, tilting her head so her hair hid her face. She was obviously awkward and embarassed - but Al couldn't blame her, he probably would be if _he _had just transferred schools half way through his education.

"What's your name?" Al asked, and she looked up at him.

"Erm, it's... Belle," she said, obviously flustered and out of sorts. The carriage creaked up to the castle, rocking with the steps of an invisible horse. "What're your names?"

"Jake Longbottom," Jake said, stretching his hand around to shake hers. She shook his hand uncertainly, then looked at Rosie.

"Rosie Weasely," she said, smiling at the girl. They climbed down, and the girl looked at Al, waiting for his answer.

"Al Potter," he said, giving his best charmer-smile - girl's loved the 'Potter' name. Suddenly, her face went pale, and horror crossed her face.

"Potter?" she managed, her wide green eyes filled with terror. "As in... Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," he said, frowning, trying to figure out her reaction. Her mouth opened in a wide O, and she backed away from them, horrified. She spun on her heel and ran away from them, into the crowd and vanishing from sight. Al scowled slightly; most girls had an ENTIRELY different reaction.

"Well, that was odd," Jake said, and together, they made their way up the steps and into the hall to begin their fifth year at Hogwarts.


	4. Chapter 4

_**"I shall never truly be _gone_ unless none here are _loyal to me_."**_

* * *

><p>Al, Rosie, and Jake sat with the young third years when they got in the hall. Lily, Lucy, Hugo, and Roxanne sat around them, talking about the classes that they would take this year, and James, Fred, and Louis were sitting on their other side, whispering about something that undoubtedly had something to do with disrupting the general peace at Hogwarts.<p>

Rosie stretched and yawned, "Will they get on with the Sorting already? I'm hungry." Right on cue, Jake's stomach let out a ferocious growl, getting a good laugh out of Roxanne.

Light-hearted, happy conversation filled the hall. Everyone was happy to be back, and there wasn't a frown in the room, even from the Slytherin table. The lights grew dim, and Professor McGonagall stood at the head of the teacher's table, ringing her spoon against her glass, with a most unusual smile on her face. As the hall grew quiet, the double doors opened and in filed the first years, led by Professor Longbottom.

Al noticed with some interest that at the very back of the line, the fifth year girl stood. She didn't stand out too much; she was only a shade taller than the eleven year olds around her, but if you looked at her she definitely was not eleven. Her eyes had dark circles and the baby fat had melted away from her face, leaving her decidedly a teenager. He couldn't remember anyone transferring in before, but it obviously had been done this time.

Professor Longbottom got out the stool and the old, patched sorting hat, and placed it on the stool. As always, it opened its mouth and sang.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
>But don't judge on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A smarter hat than me.<br>For I and I alone will tell  
>Where you're best to be<br>So put me on my head,  
>Come and come see!<br>Are you for Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
>Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,<br>Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
>or Shrewd Slytherin, from fen?<br>For each house value different virtues  
>In the ones they had to teach.<br>By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
>Prized far beyond the rest;<br>For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
>Would always be the best;<br>For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
>Most worthy of admission;<br>And power-hungry Slytherin  
>Loved those of great ambition.<br>So pull me on about your ears  
>And I shall read your heart!<br>Your greatest secrets and your fears  
>That set you apart.<br>Don't be afraid, for never I've been wrong  
>You'll be in the best of the best,<br>and sing your merry song!  
><em>  
>They all clapped, and Al couldn't help but think that the Sorting Hat's song had been better when he was a first year. But it was no matter, because just then Professor Longbottom pulled out his list and began rattling off names, and the children came up and set the hat on their head and scampered to their tables.<p>

"Archibold, Davies!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Andungas, Johnathon!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Charleson, Richard!"

"Slytherin!"

The names ticked by, the first years trickling to their tables and clapping filling the hall, each table trying to pull more and more impressive stunts as well known names filled their tables. Twins Colin and Charlie Creevy were sorted into Slytherin and Gryffindor. Finally, there was just one left. The girl that had been in the carriage with them- Belle, had she said her name was?- walked up to the seat after Zoller, Jack.

"Be- Isabella," Professor Longbottom said, stumbling strangely over her name. "Riddle, Isabella." Confusion flickered across the girls face, but she quickly covered it. She sat down an put the hat on her head. Immediately, it yelled across the hall.

"Slyt-" it broke off without completing the name, sitting on the girl's head, mumbling to itself. The girl's lips moved in response to one of it's questions, and the Sorting Hat did something strange- changed it's mind. "GRYFFINDOR." A look of relief an surprise flickered in her eyes as she took the hat off, set it on the stool, and walked to the Gryffindor table.

There was no applause. Murmurers broke out across the tables, various eyes taking in the strange girl. Her face turned red and she sat at the far end of the table, next to Colin. The boy stared at her, but refrained from talking. Around Al, he heard people whispering frantically to each other.

"She's too old to be a first year!"

"Why was her name said out of order?" someone else hissed.

"Riddle! Why would someone have that for a last name?" James hissed, anger in his eyes. "Any decent person would have had their name changed!"

"Maybe she's a muggle born and didn't know," someone else suggested.

"Why did the sorting hat stop from putting her in Slytherin?" Fred growled.

"I wish to welcome you all to another wonderful year at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, standing, her voice cutting through the whispers. Her eyes fixed sternly on the Gryffindor table, and the hall quieted. "I'll save the announcements till the feast ends. For the moment, enjoy your meal!" Food appeared on the golden platters, and happy voices filled the hall again. Soon, the strange girl was erased from their minds as the happy conversation of the Tournament filled the air.

Al waited a moment to eat, though. His eyes scanned the head table quickly, taking it all in. Professor McGonagall sat at the head of the table as Head Mistress, and to her left sat Professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff house. To her left, Professor Longbottom, head of Gryffindor sat beside her. Hagrid, Trewlany, and Professor Jordan (the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher) and some other teachers on that side of the table. To her right, Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw sat talking eagerly to Professor Greengrass, head of Slytherin. Madam Pomfree, the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Bins, and others sat beside them.

He noticed Professor Longbottom stand unobtrusively and walk over to the strange girl, smiling at her and talking to her very quietly. Try as he might, he couldn't hear what they were saying, even though they were only about eight feet down. Professor Longbottom grinned at Belle and went back up to the staff table, joining in conversation with McGonagall.

Al pulled his mind away from that and focused on those around him. Rosie and Jake were talking animatedly about this year's potions class; this was Professor Greengrass's first year as head of Slytherin, so she might loosen up on their Potions course because she'd be too busy.

"What would you guys think," Louis interrupted, "Of a potion that looked just like a love potion, but really was a gas potion?" He spread out a piece of parchment on the table with a carfully drawn pink bottle in the shape of a heart on it.

Hugo snickered. "Genius. Think Uncle George'll go for it?"

"You know Mum won't," Rosie said, arching an eyebrow at her little brother. Al thought of Hermione's reaction to a love potion that reduced people to gas fits, and tried not to grin- he failed, of course. The golden plates cleared themselves, then filled with all sorts of deserts.

"Psh. Mum'll never have to know," Hugo said, grinning. He looked at Fred. "What d'you think?"

"I think Dad'll love it," Fred grinned, thinking of his father's joke shop.

"I think it's rubbish," Jake sniffed, burrying his face in his pudding. "Who'd want to be tricked like that?" He couldn't keep his eyes from flickering to the Ravenclaw table, where a pretty, dark haired sixth year was talking to a seventh year. They all couldn't hold back the laughter, even Rosie giggled.

They finished their deserts and the plates cleared, and McGonagall stood up to address the hall.

"I'm sure your parents have told you all about the Tournament this year that will be taking place," she said, and the hall clapped in response. "This year, the new Spanish school will be coming to join us, so there will be four champions. They will all be coming the day before Halloween, as is customary. Remember, you MUST be sixteen or older to enter, and there WILL be an age-line. We will talk to you more about it as the tournament nears. As for now, I believe we all want a nice long rest after our journey before start of term. Prefects, please take your students to your dormitories."

With that, they rose collectively and with a excited tidal wave of conversation, headed for their common-rooms. They came to the painting of the Fat Lady, and Persephone Birch, the prefect, told them all the password; Plum Pops.

The portrait hole swung open, and they clamoured inside. The Third-Years broke away from them, going to sit by the fire, and James, Louis, and Fred all went to a corner to continue working on whatever they had been planning to use to disrupt their classes for first term. Al smiled and waved to Rosie and Jake as he made his way upstairs, surprisingly tired, just seeking a good night's rest.


	5. Chapter 5

**_"Turn to page three hundred and ninety four."_**

* * *

><p>The next morning, when Al and Jake made their way down to the common room, Rosie was waiting for them with a very flustered expression on her face.<p>

"That girl is a fifth year," Rosie told them. "She's in my dorm... How odd." As they headed for the portrait hole, the girl appeared at the base of the stairs that led to the girl's dorms. She saw them, and slight horror flashed in her eyes, but she managed to cover it quickly enough. She paused to get up her nerve, and followed them out of the portrait hole.

"So, how do you like it here?" Jake asked her, tactfully avoiding having the first question out of his mouth being "WTF?"

"It's- it's fine," she managed, her eyes slipping over to Al repeatedly. She had the little Gryffindor coat-of-arms on her cloak now, and her curly hair was pulled back in a pony tail. "What classes are you guys taking?"

"Arithmancy," Rosie said promptly, coming into her natural element of conversation. "And Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, History, Herbology, and a few other things- naturally."

"Naturally," Belle repeated, looking at her. "I have all those classes too- or at least, I signed up for all of them... We get our schedules at breakfast, right?"

"Yup," Al said, and noticed the girl flinched when he spoke. He scowled irritably- what had he done to make her like that? She hadn't done it till he told her his Dad was Harry Potter! People needed to stop judging him by his father!

"Can I... Can I sit with you guys at breakfast?" she asked tentatively, glancing at Jake. "I don't know anyone..."

"Course," Rosie said, smiling. Belle had obviously gotten in her good book by asking about classes first. The rest of the way downstairs, Belle avoided making eye contact with Al, and he couldn't help but start to get angry. Through all of breakfast, he refused to talk to Belle, even when she tried to talk to him. Everytime she tried, he could see some trace of horror in her eyes as she looked at him, and got even angrier. Eventually, she gave up all together.

Professor Longbottom walked around, handing out their schedules, and paused next to Belle as he handed her her schedule.

"I assume you'll be willing to show her around, Jake?" he asked, glancing at his son.

"Course, dad," Jake said, grinning. Professor Longbottom smiled, and turned his attention back to Belle. He frowned slightly.

"No funny business, mind you," he told her shortly, and turned to walk to the staff table. Al frowned, wondering what he meant, and noticed Belle had gotten pale, but she was pretending she hadn't reacted.

"What does he mean, no funny business?" Jake asked Belle curiously.

"I don't know," Belle told him, but she couldn't meet his eyes, and Al knew instinctively she was lying.

"So," Rosie said, eager to change the subject. "Today, we start off with Double Potions, and then go to Care of Magical Creatures. I think Hagrid said something about working with some sort of snake today."

"Awesome," Al said, grinning; Lily and Al had gotten parseltongue from their father, and James had been furious when he found he couldn't speak to snakes too. "I'll get great marks."

A clatter came from diagonal to him; Belle had dropped her goblet and was staring at the spreading orange pumpkin juice stain, her hand shaking slightly. "Snakes?"

"Don't worry," Jake said, putting his arm around her. "You'll be fine. Even if they bite, there's not a mark Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix." His words obviously had done little to dispel her fears, but she pushed his arm off of her shoulders anyway. Louis snickered from two seats down, and Rosie swiftly reached out and slapped him on the back of the head. For the rest of the meal, Belle didn't speak. In fact, she hardly glanced up from her plate. Al ignored her with great determination, keeping the conversation up and running about little things.

Al was just eating his last piece of toast when the bell rang, signalling for them to go upstairs and get their books for whatever course they would be having. They trooped their way out of the dining Hall and up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, gathering their books and cauldrons, and then making their way back down to the Potions Dungeon classroom. Al plopped down in the third desk from the front, in the middle row, and set his cauldron up infront of him.

Jake and Rosie sat next to him, but Belle sat down at the table to their right, with Scorpius. Scorpius looked at her as though he couldn't decide whether she was a horrible rat and to crinkle his nose, or to laugh that a Gryffindor had chosen to sit next to him rather than near Al. He didn't have much time to choose, because just then Professor Greengrass chose to stride into the room, her cloak billowing out dramatically behind her and her dark eyes flashing.

"Welcome to Potions Class," she said, spinning dramatically as she reached her desk so that her cloak flared out as she faced her class. Her eyes went over each and every face, her cold eyes looking into the students' until they each, one by one, looked away from her gaze. Her gaze fell on Belle and Scorpius, and she sneered before sweeping behind her desk. "You will find that all the rumors about Potions Grade Five are true- it is a dreadful course. And there will be no difference because of my change in position." Her eyes flashed across Jake's face then, and he looked away quickly.

"Now, I want to know what all you remember from last year, so let's begin with... brewing Veritaserum. You have precisely one hour and ten minutes, and in one month when they come into full we will test them. Begin."

Al's mind raced, trying to remember if they'd brewed that last year- no, as a matter of fact, they hadn't. He cursed under his breath, and flipped to the back of his book, questing for the name Veritaserum in the index. There it was: page 394. He flipped quickly to 394, and read through it. His stomach churned as he looked at the recipe. It was incredibly complicated; there were so many things that could go wrong.

He pulled everything out of his cauldron, and placed it over the small pit in the desk, starting a fire under it. He fumbled with his bottle of Frost Dragon blood, measured out the appropriate amount, and poured it into his cauldron. He read out the instructions, adding Lionfish Spine, Werewolf Fangs, Unicorn Horn, and ground Pixie Wings. He looked at his spell book; at this stage, it was supposed to be silvery but his had turned a sickly green. He glanced over to Rosie's cauldron, and saw that hers was a glowing white, and she was already measuring in Goblin blood and stirring it fifty times clockwise.

Across the room, he heard a loud explosion and rolled his eyes as he saw Lee Finnigan standing, slightly surprised, with soot all over his face and smoke curling up from his cauldron. He felt more confident in himself then, realizing his couldn't be that off, and reread the first part of the instructions.

"Add an extra three grams unicorn horn," Rosie told him out of the side of her mouth, and he obeyed; his turned silverish, and he continued.

By the time class came to an end, his potion was near perfect, although it wasn't perfectly clear; it was too blue. Rosie's was perfect, and after a month of setting, it would be able to be used. Professor Greengrass walked around the class, looking disgusted with their results. When she reached the front again, she just glared at them all.

"Two students did perfectly," she said, sneering at them. "Just TWO. How pathetic." Her eyes flashed over Rosie with an approving expression, then flickered to Belle. Belle turned red and hid behind her hair, but no one other than Al and Scorpius noticed. The bell rang, and Professor Greengrass sent them scurrying with a loving statement: "Get out of my sight you pathetic children."

* * *

><p>Hagrid's hut came into view over the crest, with the large man standing outside and three young boarhound pups scurrying around his feet. He grinned and waved heartily at them as the Gryffindors made their way up to his cabin. As they grew closer, they noticed two small shoe boxes at Hagrid's feet- one of them was making croaking sounds.<p>

"So what're we doing today?" Al asked, slouching against the side of his cabin. Happily, he handed Al a sheet of paper he had had concealed in his giant hand.

_"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._"

Al looked at it in disbelief, then at the boxes. "We're not... no, Hagrid, there's no way we have permission for this!"

"Yup, there is!" he said delightedly. "Yeh see, they're not fa'al 'til they're a 'alf a 'ear old! So, at the end, Lee Jorda- Er, Professor Jordan- an' I'll be teachin' you how ter fight one! Yer da' may even come ter see how yeh do, his past an all." Hagrid looked absolutely delighted at the concept of Harry coming.

"This is insane," Al said, staring with renewed horror at the two shoe boxes. He passed out more of the sheets of paper he had in his hand to the other students, and repeated what he had just told Al.

"So, wha' yer all gonna do, is yeh see, I've got thirteen eggs 'ere, an' thirteen toads-" he broke off, counting, and noticed that Belle was with them. He hadn't been expecting a new FIFTH year, obviously, because his face fell. "An', er, yeh'll be sharin' with Albus 'ere, so 'e can make sure yer all up ter date. An'way, yeh'll all be settin' to hatchin' and raisin' an' killin' one." When he said that, he looked again at Al and Belle, then added, "An' once yer started, I'll be gettin' another for..." he broke off, looking for her name.

"Belle," she supplied.

"Belle," he repeated. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "Ah, I see... BELLE." Belle's face turned red, and she closed her mouth on a retort she obviously wanted to make. She muttered angrily under her breath as they set about making nests for the eggs. Finally, Al had to ask.

"What's up with you, anyway?"

Again, she flinched when he spoke, her green eyes meeting his. He was struck by how much like his father's- and his, for that matter- those eyes were.

"I transferred, I told you," she mumbled, going back to collecting twigs and moss from the edge of the forest. He carefully placed his grass and leaves down, and walked over to her, making her look at him.

"Why? What's up with you?" he said, looking down at her. Her eyes flickered.

"They wanted me to go to Magia, but... I wanted to come to Hogwarts because I wasn't too good at Spanish, so, I went to the Ministry and... tada," she said, making the little Ta-Da hand gesture.

"Why do the teachers look at you like that?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder to where Hagrid was looking over at them with a frown.

"Because... because of my grandfather, alright? You should know what that's like," she said, exasperation in her voice as she threw down her bundle of sticks and put her hands on her hips, glaring up at him. "Just leave it, alright?" They collected their things and started making their way back to the cottage. Try as he might, Al just couldn't leave it there.

"Who-"

"I said to leave it," she said, her voice getting danerously low. "They shouldn't judge me by him, I never even knew him. I grew up in an orphanage." Her voice was so cold, Al wouldn't have been surprised if the lake to their left began to frost over. He wanted to ask more, but noticed her hand was inching closer and closer to her wand, and thought it best to keep his mouth shut. He turned and sat leaning against Hagrid's house, one of the puppies licking at Al's shoes, and began to weave a nest.

Al paused and watched as Belle's fingers twisted small twigs and grass into a deftly tied ring, and threaded larger sticks through the bottom making a net, and taking the thick mat of leaves Al had in his hand and pushing it down into the bottom. He looked at the small, simple, but well crafted nest in her palm, and up at her.

"I had a lot of time while I was waiting for my case to be heard," she said shortly, pushing herself to her feet and handing Al the nest. He looked at her again, wondering just who she was, as they walked to Hagrid.

"Blimey, good job, Albus!" Hagrid said, grinning and putting a chicken egg in the nest, and topping it off with a toad. He didn't seem to want to acknowledge Belle existed, and she didn't seem to mind. Hagrid turned around, reached into his cabin, and pulled out a small cardboard box with holes in the side, and they settled the toad in it's nest inside.

"Yer next class is fri'ay, right?" he asked, and Al nodded. "Good, they shoul' 'e hatchin 'round then." Just then, the bell rang, signalling it was time for lunch, and all of them together made their way up to the castle.


	6. Chapter 6

**"Spooky how the time flies when one's having fun."**

* * *

><p>Days passed quickly as the term began, flickering by so fast that Al could barely believe that two weeks had already passed when they went to Hagrid's cabin for their fourth lesson. When they arrived, there were fourteen small snakes curled in their boxes, some with bright red plumes from their heads. They were blind and quite ugly, and their proportions weren't quite right for a snake. Three small down feathers came out of the tips of their tales; the females had blue, and the males had red. By the time they got there, they had been hatched for about an hour without Hagrid noticing- the result was several very chewed, very dead toads, and several very full, very bloody baby basilisks.<p>

"Are you SURE this is legal?" Jake asked, voice high, as one of the basilisks missed his fingers by about half an inch.

"Yes, yes, yes," Hagrid said, waving aside his concerns as he walked around, looking proudly in the box. "They won' kill yeh. the bite'll on'y give yeh a nasty 'eadache for the 'irst hour, s'long as yeh get to Mad'm Pomfree 'n that hour."

"And if we don't?" Jake said, looking at his blue plumed basilisk unhappily.

"Well..." Hagrid said uncomfortably. "Well, there's no reason yeh won't get to 'er in time, it's perfectly controlled."

"Very reassuring," Jake mumbled into his box, keeping his hands well out of reach of his snake.

Albus just grinned, holding his red basilisk in his lap and petting it along its spine. It made a sort of thrumming sound that was remarkably like purring; it's tongue kept going in and out like it was hissing, but the sound was deeper.

"What're we supposed to do with them, Hagrid?" Rosie said uncertainly, holding her red basilisk just behind it's head and at full arms length.

"Well, yeh pet 'em," he said. "They're new, yeh see, so yeh want teh make sure their scales er all clear an' there's nuthin wrong with em."

Al shrugged, and continued petting his basilisk. He looked at it and smiled at the irony; his father had nearly died fighting one, and here he was, petting one. He looked up, and saw a strange sight:

Where he was leaning against the hut, everyone else was sitting facing the hut. Beyond all the others, Belle had her snake coiled around her neck and was looking serenely out at the lake. None of the others could see her because she was behind them, and he didn't want to open his mouth, but it was very odd... why wasn't her snake trying to bite her? Everyone else's snake was feeling very nibbly... except for his, of course, seeing as he was a parselmouth.

As that thought occurred to him, his eyes narrowed, and he studied the girl.

No, she wasn't one. They were very rare, and he could swear she said she was muggle born. He'd never heard of a muggle born parselmouth... he shook his head and rolled his shoulders, clearing his mind. The snake in his lap looked up at him irritably with blind eyes as he disturbed it, readjusting itself and sniffing at his hand. He resumed petting on it, watching Belle distractedly.

After a few minutes, he realized someone was saying his name. Actually, to be honest, he didn't realize it until Rosie started waving her basilisk in his face.

"Huh?" he asked, glancing up at Rosie.

"The bell rings in five minutes, we should start putting the snakes up," Rosie said, frowning at him. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he responded, standing, dumping his basilisk on the ground. He reached down to pick it up, but it hissed and bit his finger instead and slithered quickly away from him and into the woods, disappearing from sight. He cursed, too preoccupied to call it back. Blood and a diluted venom was covering his finger, and he squeezed it tight with his other hand, stamping his foot on the ground and cursing under his breath.

"After that snake!" Hagrid roared, seeing Al and knowing immediately what had happened. Hagrid walked quickly to Al and put his arm around Al's shoulder, questing around for someone.

"You!" he said loudly, pointing to Belle. She looked up, startled. She had just taken two steps in the direction of the trees after stowing her own snake away, and hesitated, unsure whether to continue after Al's snake or come over to Hagrid. "Come 'ere! Escort 'im up teh the infirm'ry, please, I've got teh be catching the basilisk."

"But..." she started, her face turning bright red. "I don't know the way, I'm new."

"'E knows, jus' guide 'im there an' make sure 'e doesn't pass out," Hagrid grumbled, giving her an intensely distrustful look. She nodded bleakly, and Hagrid bounded into the trees after the few students who had actually gone after the snake.

"Stupid," Al muttered under his breath. "Shouldn't've stood up, should've kept my hand on him..." he broke off, gasping for air as a sudden pounding set into his skull, and his vision blurred. He staggered, and Belle yelped, holding him steady and pulling him along up to the castle.

"Why'd he bite you?" she asked him, bearing most of his weight as they trudged up to the castle. Al looked down at her, but couldn't seem to focus... for a moment, he could've sworn she had four very green eyes and two noses.

"I dunno," he mumbled, trying to focus his eyes on the castle. His head was pounding. No, not just pounding- it was as though Hagrid had put all his strength behind a swing of a sludge hammer and hit him over the head... and kept doing it. A groan escaped his throat, and he noticed that all four of Belle's eyes were looking very worried.

"You're a parselmouth, though, aren't you?" she demanded. "He was under your influence!"

"Waddnt focussssssssed..." he mumbled, his words slurred. In his state, he didn't noticed he had slipped into parseltongue- or that Belle responded in kind.

"Just stay calm," she told him, pushing the doors open to the castle and hauling Al in after her. He registered her words sounded off, but figured his hearing was acting strange too. It was no longer Hagrid beating on his skull, but rather the Giant Squid in the lake, trying to turn his head into apple sauce. The trip upstairs to the hospital wing was a swirl of colors and steps, corridors and strange paintings, and faces of a few students peering out of their classrooms.

What was that dratted moaning sound?

It took him a moment for him to realize it was coming from him, and he tried to stop, but he'd lost all control of his vocal chords. His legs gave out from under him, and Belle let out a startled cry as his sudden weight dragged them back down a few steps. She gave up trying to guide him along the stairs and pulled him so his arms were around her neck, making it a very awkward piggie back ride. The next class they passed, someone he vaguely recognised sprinted out of... James, he realized, as his brother's face slid in and out of focus.

Belle and James had a conversation that Al couldn't follow, though he made out the words "Bitten", "Basilisk", and "Infirmary". James pulled Al off of Belle, and they slung him between them, tugging him up the last flight of steps and into the corridor directly outside the hospital wing. James took all of his weight while Belle pounded on the infirmary door, gave up, and tried to push it open- locked. She cursed, pulled out her wand, and seemingly shouted: ALOHAMORA! (although, it was more a normal volume than Al seemed to be thinking. God, his head was positively _pounding._)

The door slammed open violently, and they got Al onto the nearest vacant bed (which was close; there was only one other patient, a first year who had fallen from his broom during lessons.) just as a blurred, very plump shape came into his line of vision. As he watched, his eyes came even more unfocused and it seemed as though there were two Madam Pomfrey's looking down at him with worry on their faces.

"What happened to him?" her sharp voice cracked through his dreariness. "Not the snakes? I TOLD him he was being stupid! My lord!" She turned around and opened a little cabinet, rummaging through for some strange green potion that she dabbed on a cotton ball, dabbing at his finger. "He is so lucky this snake isn't a year older, or he'd have been long dead," she said, glancing at a water-clock on the wall.

As she spoke, his mind began to clear a little as the green potion began to draw some of the venom from his veins.

"Oh, god, I'm going to have to use some phoenix tears. I really don't have much of these, you know!" she said irritably, prodding Al's cheeks. She slowly came into focus; now, instead of two, there was only one (although four-eyed) Madam Pomfrey. She turned, rummaging in her cabinet, and returned with a small, clear vial of a shimmering, slightly cloudy liquid. She opened it, and the inside of the lid turned out to be a dropper.

A single tear splashed onto his finger, and immediately the room around him began to swim into focus. Madam Pomfrey had three eyes... no, just two very fuzzy ones... no, no, two perfectly normal, big eyes stared down at him. The pain in his head lessened from a demonic squid bent on crushing his head to jelly, to Hagrid with a hammer, to a house elf with a lamp, to a dull throbbing. Belle and James stood over him, two matching pairs of concerned green eyes looking down at him.

Slowly, his wits came back to him.

"Hold up," he mumbled, focusing in on Belle's face. "I never told you I was a parselmouth." Her face grew pale, strangely pale, and something like panic flared in her eyes.

"I... heard you speaking parseltongue," she said, straightening so he couldn't see her face too well. Al frowned, searching his memory... he didn't think he had ever spoken to his snake. Perhaps he had, though... yes, he must've, how else could she have known? Just as he was beginning to think straight, and questions flashed through his mind, Madam Pomfrey pushed in and dragged James and Belle away.

"Out, out, OUT!" she said, pushing them towards the still open door of the infirmary. "The boy needs his rest!" The door slammed in James' face, his mouth opened in question, as Belle stumbled out of the way of the heavy door. Madam Pomfrey turned on Al then, glaring at him.

"You'll be sleeping through your classes, you will," she told him. "You'll have lunch up here, but you should be able to go down for dinner. Depends on how well you sleep."

"But I'm not tir-" Al protested.

"I'll give you a sleeping potion," she cut him off, rummaging in her cabinet again and returning the green potion and the pheonix tears, before turning back to face him with a small cup that she forced into his hands. He took a few sips, and before he knew it, he was nodding off.

He dreamt of snakes.


	7. Chapter 7

**_"Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness."_**

* * *

><p>When Al woke up, sunlight was streaming through the western windows and turning the floor of the infirmary gold, hurting his eyes. He rubbed at his face, and sought out the glasses on the bedside table. He fitted them on his face, and blinked around the room. The water-clock on the other side of the room with drawing near the five, the steady plunk of drops of water filling the near-empty hospital wing. The kid who had been in here before was gone.<p>

"Glad to see you're up," Madam Pomfrey's voice came from his right, and he glanced over to see she was organizing a cabinet with potions on the far side of the room. "I was worried you'd be sleeping through dinner."

"Sleep through dinner?" Al asked sleepily, pushing himself further upright on his pillows. "As if."

Madam Pomfrey laughed softly, bustling over to his side and pulling his finger up for her inspection. It was perfectly healed from the Pheonix tear, bearing no trace of a fang poking through it a few hours before. The venom had worked its way completely out of his system, and other than feeling slightly dizzy he was fine.

"I told Hagrid, I warned him," she said, tsking as she dropped his hand and walked around the room, picking up a bottle of pills and a glass of water. "Muggle medicine. Works fine for headaches," she said, dropping a white pill into his palm and handing him the glass of water. He popped the pill in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of water, and put the glass on the bedside table. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and stood. His vision swam and he put a hand on the side of the bed until the wave of dizziness passed, but once it passed he was perfectly fine.

"Bottled phoenix tears don't work nearly as well as the fresh ones," Madam Pomfrey grumbled, watching him sway on his feet. "But Dumbledore's-" she broke off and looked down at her feet, turning away on the pretence of washing out his glass. After all this time, Dumbledore was still a touchy subject with the older staff. When she turned back to talk to him, her eyes were suspiciously red.

"Are you alright?" Al asked, putting out a hand to place on her arm. She brushed him off, immediately businesslike again.

"Absolutely fine," she told him. She glanced over her shoulder at the water clock, which was now ticking right up to the five mark. "You should go get ready for dinner. Check in with me if anything comes up- headaches, sore finger, anything. No relapses. Alright?"

"'Kay," he said, stretching and walking out of the hospital wing, leaving Madam Pomfrey to her work.

The familiar walk to Gryffindor tower passed by in a blur of thought. His mind was flipping through the events that morning, thinking over again about the strange things he'd seen or heard. Had he really seen and heard those things, or had he been delirious?

On their own, they didn't seem like much. Just some harmless conversations. But when he looked at them, and thought about them, they didn't make much sense. How HAD his snake really gotten out of his control? He had said he hadn't been focusing, and he hadn't, but the snake couldn't have gotten out of his grip that easy. And he was entirely certain he never spoke aloud in parseltongue. And Belle had been so keen to try and avoid speaking to him, and yet she did everything in her power to get him up to the infirmary, rather than just jumping into a classroom and having someone else do it.

Why?

These questions were soaring through his head and he didn't realize he was in front of the Gryffindor tower entrance until the Fat Lady said, "Are you going to just stand there all evening?"

Al started, but told her the password and walked through the portrait hole.

When he got inside, something he never would have expected happened. A small shape slammed into him with enough force to stunt his breath, and when he looked down a tight ponytail of curly black hair was buried in his chest. Belle's face turned up to look at him, her green eyes looking at his face with a surprising amount of worry.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping back, her eyes flickering over his face. She looked down and grabbed his hand, poking at his finger. "Looks alright," she said, looking up into his face again. "Are you?"

"I'm fine..." he said, confused as he looked down at the girl who had tried to avoid him for multiple days and flinched whenever he spoke to her.

"Thank god," she said, smiling weakly at him and stepping away. She walked over to the fire, her back to him, and gathered up her books. When she looked back at him, her cheeks were a flushed pink. "I was worried," she offered as way of explanation.

"Yeah..." he looked at her, bewilderment spelled out on his face. Her face grew pinker, and she turned and fled up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

Shaking his head, he looked around the room. The only other one in the common room was Rosie, sitting by the fire across from where Belle's books had been.

"What was that?" he asked, sitting down in the chair previously occupied Belle's books.

"Nothing," Rosie said stiffly. She stood, her books overflowing her arms. "I have no idea." She turned, and she too went up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, leaving Al sitting alone in the common room and very confused. He looked down and frowned. On the ground, there was a small slip of paper. On it, in a curling handwriting, was the name ISABELLA, with ISA crossed out and TRIX written after it. It was followed by the name "RIDDLE."

He frowned, searching for the name Bellatrix in his memory. Bellatrix... it was a familiar name. His stomach gave a lurch, and he remembered Bellatrix was the name of a death eater who'd killed Sirius Black. Who in their right mind would name their child BELLATRIX RIDDLE?

His stomach churned again as he realized that it had been the name ISABELLA RIDDLE that was changed to BELLATRIX RIDDLE. Belle's name was Bellatrix Riddle?

"She must be muggle-born," he told himself, crushing the paper in his hand and throwing it into the fire. Behind him, the stairs creaked, and he turned his head to see Jake plodding down the stairs. His eyes looked tired, and his hair was sticking up in every direction as though he'd just been asleep- which he probably had been.

"We had History of Magic after lunch," Jake explained, seeing Al's face, and yawning widely.

"Ah," Al said, standing from his chair and stretching. "Dinner?"

Jake checked his watch. "Yeah, we could go ahead and make out way down. Most everyone else is out in the courtyard, because it's so nice, so there's not really anybody to wait for... Did you see Rosie?"

"Yeah, I think she'd been talking to Belle," Al said as they pushed the portrait hole open and made their way out of Gryffindor tower. "What's up with that, anyway?"

"I dunno," Jake said, frowning. "They were passing notes all through History of Magic. It was totally unlike Rosie... and she wouldn't tell me what they were talking about, either. They were whispering ever since Belle got back to lunch after hauling you up to the infirmary."

"Wish I knew what they were talking about," Al said thoughtfully, descending the steps two at a time, his stomach reminding him forcefully that he had missed lunch. Thinking about the note, he mentioned it to Jake.

"Probably girl stuff," Jake rolled his eyes. "You know how Rosie grumbles about not being able to talk about cute guys with us as her best friends."

"True," Al conceded as he jumped down the last flight of stairs. As predicted, lots of other people were coming in from outside in the courtyard, talking and chatting about the Quidditch try-outs coming up, and wondering if they wouldn't be cancelled because of the Tri-Wizard tournament.

"Mmmm smells good," Jake said appreciatively as they pushed their way into the great hall. The smell of cooking and cooked foods wafted up from the kitchen directly below, setting their stomachs to growling. They found an unoccupied stretch of a dozen or so seats and sat down. Around them, their cousins and friends sat as they filed in from outside or upstairs, where they had been napping. The enchanted ceiling above them shone brightly in shades of pink and orange, streaking through a few white puffy clouds. It darkened above them as the last students sat down, Belle and Rosie walking in near the end.

"Looks like you've got a girlfriend," James joked, arching an eyebrow as Belle blushed on seeing Al, and sat as far from him as she could get- which wasn't much, only a seat away, with Rosie in the middle. "I wanted to drag you up to the infirmary on my own, but she insisted on coming. She wasn't too keen to let go of you."

Al felt his ears turning red and ducked his head as food appeared on the golden platters, and he gratefully set himself on a slice of shepherds pie.

"Alzie's got a girlfriend, Alzie's got a girlfriend," Fred chanted from the other side of the table, giggling.

"He does?" Rosie said, looking over at him, totally confused. She had missed everything James had said, talking to Belle.

"He dooooooooes," Louis chimed in, cackling.

"Do not," Al mumbled into his shepherds pie.

"Who?" Belle asked curiously, looking down the table to them. Fred, Louis, and James were reduced to fits of laughter as they watched Belle's face furrow with confusion, looking at Al. "What're they talking about?"

"I dunno," Al said, blood rushing into his face. He hadn't thought of her like that, but when put that way, he figured she was pretty. Her face was heart shaped, with full lips and bright green eyes. Sleek black curls fell framed her face, most of it pulled back into a ponytail. She wasn't particularly tall, just a shade shorter than Rosie, but there was a way she carried herself that kept him from thinking of her like that; she stood proud, but on the defensive side, like she was afraid she'd have to protect herself.

Al turned away from her, turning his attention back to a very interesting bite of pie.

"So, Quidditch," Belle said, trying to start a conversation. "How's it work here?" James stared at her incredulously.

"No one's TOLD YOU?" he said, aghast.

"Well, no," she said, color rising in her cheeks. "I haven't asked about it, really, until now..."

"Well, each house has a team," Al's little sister, Lily, said enthusiastically. "And we all play each other in different matches, you know, to see which team is best and then they get the Quidditch cup."

"Cool, are there any openings on the Gryffindor team?" Belle asked, looking at them curiously.

"Yeah, a Beater and a Chaser left last year," Jake said, grinning toothily.

"Who all's on it?" Belle asked the general table, but she was making eye contact with Al only.

"Well, uhm, I'm Keeper," Al said awkwardly. "Fred is beater... Lily's Seeker... See that girl down there, Michelle O'Brian? She's a Chaser, and so is David Wood down there."

"Awesome," Belle said, nodding, turning her attention to her plate, which had just magically cleared off. The golden platters now filled with deserts, and he could swear he heard Belle mutter, "I wanted those potatoes..." before setting to desert.

Al was so absorbed in his thick slice of cake he didn't notice McGonagall had stood until the hall around him grew completely silent. He looked up expectantly, pausing with his fork half way between his mouth and his plate.

"I do believe," she spoke. Her voice was quiet, but no one in the hall had any problem hearing her words. "That there are some questions, especially pertaining what will be happening to Quidditch with the Tri-Wizard- Quad-Wizard?- tournament. Quidditch WILL continue, but on a touch and go basis without a formal schedule. If and only if our school champion is not on a quidditch team will Quidditch proceed under a normal schedule. In six weeks, our guests will be arriving and I DO expect you all on your very best behaviour."

She sat down, and the Hall returned to the desert spread out before them. The students finished their deserts, and the plates polished themselves and the students stood with pleasantly full stomaches, heading up to their dormitories.

As they walked, Belle fell back to walk beside him.

"I'm glad you're OK," she finally said, as they made it up the first flight of stairs.

"Yeah, well, Hagrid said anyone who was bit would be," he said with a shrug. "As long as they got to Madam Pomfrey."

"Well, you didn't see your face," she said, glancing up at him. "You looked horrid, like you were going mad, like you were dying. It was scary."

"Didn't feel much better," Al confided as they reached the next flight of stairs, other students cutting them off from the rest of their friends.

"You look much better now, though." She observed his face, her eyes flashing in the torchlight as she studied him. "A bit pale."

"I feel better, too," Al said, striding confidently up the stairs. "Wonder why?"

She laughed, and they walked up the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower in a quiet sort of companionship. The portrait hole swung open infront of them, and they climbed into the common room where Rosie and Jake had already taken up seats by the fire, sitting with their books spread out across their laps and OWL study sheets scattered across the table between them.

Belle and Al joined them, sitting down in two plush arm chairs. Belle closed her eyes, and was asleep in moments. Al glanced at her to make sure she was asleep before asking Rosie a question that had been stirring in his mind for an hour now.

"What had you two been talking about?" Al asked, leaning across the table.

"Nothing," Rosie said, promptly burying her nose in a book.

"Nothing?" Al said, incredulously. "I found a slip of paper, with a name on it. What was that about?'

"Nothing," Rosie repeated, sitting back so that her face was hidden completely by her book.

"Tell me," Al demanded, but Rosie pretended she hadn't heard him. He grumbled under his breath and sat back in his chair, only to notice a pair of sparkling green eyes fixed on him.

Belle was watching him, her face carefully blanked of all emotions.

"Please, tell me," Al asked, wondering if perhaps Belle would answer.

"It had to do with something that doesn't involve you in the least," Belle said, her voice steady, her eyes unmoving from his. Finally, it was Al that looked away. "I needed to speak about something with someone. Now, I do not, and I rather wish that no one knows other than her. Please respect that." Belle stood, her back stiff, and walked up the spiral staircase to the girl's dormitories. Rosie glanced up, put her book down, and followed her.

The two girls were alone in their dormitory, seeing as the other girls hadn't gone to bed yet. Belle and Rosie sat together on Rosie's bed, looking out through the window at the silvered, moonlit grounds.

"He really wants to know," Rosie said at last, to break the silence. Belle turned her gaze to Rosie.

"I know he does," she said, her voice soft. "But if he knew, he would never be able to look me in the eye again." She gave a false, hoarse sort of laugh. "After all, my grandfather murdered his grandfather. My grandfather also killed numerous others. So did my grandmother. My grandmother tortured Jake's grandparents to insanity... it's not the sort of thing to be taken lightly. It's in my blood, Rosie.

"I had to fight to come here, through court cases I had to fight for my right for years to be able to come to this school. One of the deals that was made was that no one would know who my grandfather was.

"I've broken that promise because I couldn't bear to be alone in this. But no one else can know."

The entire time she spoke, her eyes never wavered from Rosie's face. Without a word, Rosie just nodded, and Belle stood up and went to her own bed, lying down an disappearing under the covers without bothering to change. Rosie lay back in her own bed, staring up at the ceiling until she fell into a deep sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**"_Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."_**

* * *

><p>In the weeks that followed, Al never did figure out what Belle and Rosie spoke about on their own. After a while, he didn't mind; he figured if it was something he needed to know, Rosie would tell him. It was probably only girl stuff.<p>

Hagrid didn't catch Al's escaped basilisk, either. He insisted that it would die in the woods anyway, because it had been too young to catch it's own food properly and would starve. Lacking a basilisk now, Hagrid set Al and Belle to working with each other again. Hagrid would hatch his own snake so that they would both have a snake to kill later, but for now he wanted them working on a snake the same speed as the others.

Days and weeks sped by with blinding speed. The leaves outside turned into an array of colors, making the forest seem like it was aflame with its orange and red and yellow leaves. Autumn filled the Transfiguration classroom with a nice crisp breeze, and whipped their hair with leaves when they stood outside as they practiced hexes and couner-jinxes during Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Homework piled up steadily in their laps and their teachers were constantly reminding them about their OWLs this year, and that they would still have to work just as hard, even with the Tri-Wizard Tournament coming up.

Weeks flipped by and the date their guests would arrive grew closer and closer without Al seeming to notice, until he was surprised one evening that Professor Longbottom showed up in their common room before dinner telling them that they should get ready to come down to greet the guests from the other schools.

They all went up to their dormitories to neaten themselves up, before they followed Professor Longbottom down seven sets of stairs to the Great Hall. Ravenclaw was already there, and in moments HufflePuff and Slytherin appeared.

Al knew what was going to happen, considering his father had recounted his own experience when he heard that the Tournament was occurring again. The doors were pushed open, and the houses descended the steps, HufflePuff and Ravenclaw to the left, Slytherin and Gryffindor to the right, leaving a pathway up the middle for their guests to enter through.

The talking among the students died down to an expectant silence, and after what seemed an eternity to Al, McGonagall's voice rang out across the steps. "Durmstrang."

The lake turned dark and angry, and the water began to spin into a funnel. A huge ship rose up from the sea with a resounding crash, and about two dozen students disembarked, all of them men. They threw off thick furs into piles on the shore with an impressive, synchronized movement, leaving their chests bare. They all had wands in hand, which grew in their hands into long staffs that they banged on the ground, sending showers of sparks as they marched up between the students, doing well-rehearsed step routines.

"Wow," Belle breathed from somewhere to his right.

"Impressive," Rosie agreed, watching the Durmstrang students disappear up the steps and into the hall behind them, Hogwarts students applauding them.

"If you like that sort of thing," Al said, irritated for some reason he couldn't place at the girls' reactions. Jake just sniffed, disdaining to follow the students with his eyes as everyone else did.

As the doors closed behind the Durmstrang students, McGonagall's voice echoed out again. "Magia."

For a long moment, Al couldn't see any sign of the other students. But suddenly, a collective gasp rose from around him, and several fingers pointed into the sky. Al craned back his head, an saw a huge dark shape blotting out the stars above him. The shape grew larger and closer, until a huge blast of flame lit the shape.

It was a dragon.

He was red golden, with huge eyes the size of beach balls, reflecting the light of the fire that poured out of his mouth. Upon his back, a dozen students sat in some of the strangest robes he had seen. They were wearing the underclothes like Hogwart's students, but instead of black outer robes, they were almost camo. The cloaks were green and grey, mottled with light and dark like the trees. Most of them had very dark hair, and the tan skin of Spaniards.

The dragon landed several hundred yards away, and the students slid off his backs. Almost the second they touched the ground, they seemed to disappear, though Al thought he could occasionally catch a glimpse of running figures through the dark before they melted into the shadows as they sprinted up to the castle.

Somewhere between twelve and sixteen figures seemed to rise up out of the ground at the edge of the circle of light cast by the torches that lined the outside of the doors.

The figures- students, he assumed- stood so still he wondered if they weren't just enchanted statues, until one of them walked forwards to McGonagall and shoved back the hood of his cloak, kneeling and kissing McGonagall's hand. Al found it hard to watch the man, his eyes kept slipping off of him and his shape seemed rather blurred.

He stood abruptly, flipping off his cloak and folding it over his arm before bowing low to the other teachers. The second the cloak was gone, the outline of his shape seemed much more defined.

"You're much too kind, Jaques," McGonagall said, smiling at the man. The man flashed brilliantly white teeth in a grin, and beckoned over his shoulder to his students, who ghosted across the grounds and up the steps, vanishing into the hall in a whirl of cloaks. Rather than following his students, the man stood with McGonagall to await the next arrival.

It took mere moments for McGonagall's voice to ring out again, this time saying, "Beauxbatons."

The air seemed to rattle, as though there was a stampede. Rosie reached out to grab ahold of Jake to steady herself as the ground trembled slightly, and a loud whinnie broke the air as a dozen huge horses galloped across the sky on what appeared to be a paving path made entirely of raw energy. Behind the horses, an enormous carriage was pulled. The road in the sky merged with the earth seamlessly, and the horses trotted off the pathway onto solid ground, the energy behind them fading.

The door opened, and a woman even taller than Hagrid emerged, with thick black hair and dark eyes. She walked with a grace that was surprising for her size, and students emerged from the carriage behind her wearing powder-blue robes. Unlike those from the Spanish school, they remained visible in their pale robes all the way to the edge of the circle of light, where the tall woman smiled at McGonagall and the Spanish Headmaster and bowed.

"Madame Maxime," McGonagall said with a smile, and she bowed in return. Hagrid walked past the other staff with a grin plastered from ear to ear, looped his arm through hers, and together they led the French students up the steps and into the hall with the other students, and McGonagall turned on her heel and led her own students back up the steps into the Hall to lead everyone inside for the feast, the Spanish Headmaster following her.

The doors to the outside closed behind them, and in their stead the dining hall opened wide. The entire hall was alight with floating candles, and the enchanted ceiling shimmered brightly with stars, and even the occasional burst of flame from what appeared to be the dragon the Magia students had flown in on. The golden platters and plates were freshly polished, obviously in an attempt to seem more impressive to the foreigners.

The Hogwarts students filed inside and sat at their tables, leaving the other three groups of students standing uncertainly at the doors. After a moment, the Dumstrang students sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table, seeing as it was the emptiest table and there were more Durmstrang students than any others. Slytherin was the fullest table this year, so instead, the students from Beauxbatons sat at the Hufflepuff table, and the Magia students at the end of Gryffindor.

At the staff table, McGonagall promptly transformed a few statues into four extra chairs, that Professor Flitwick brought up to the table and sat beside McGonagall's table. Al knew, of course, that there would be five judges, as there had been in his father's time. Now he assumed, four would be the head masters/mistresses of their schools, and then one other from a Ministry.

Madame Maxime, McGonagall, the man Al'd heard McGonagall call Jaques, and the unnamed Durmstrang Head-Master took their seats. As the students finished settling down, McGonagall stood, and the hall fell silent.

"I would like to thank all our wonderful guests for coming," she said, her voice soft, but carrying to the corners of the room. "And am looking forward to the upcoming Tournament. In like, please bring out the Goblet." From the corner of the room, an old, wooden box rose up from the shadows, drifting infront of McGonagall and setting down on the table. She opened it with a tap of her wand, and pulled out an old, silver and blue-glass goblet with engravings Al couldn't read from where he was sitting.

"This," McGonagall said, setting down the Goblet on the top of the crate so everyone could see. "Is the Goblet of Fire. Anyone so choosing to enter will write their name on a slip of parchment, and their school, and place it in the Goblet. Only put the name in if you are entirely certain you wish to compete, because if your name is chosen, there is no going back. Only students in their six and seventh years will be able to place their names in, because I will be drawing an Age Line.

"There will be five judges for the Tournament, they will be Professor Gomez, Madame Maxime, and Professor Balakov along with myself. Someone else has agreed to join us for the duration of the Tournament as judge. It took a very long while to find one we agreed on, because it was worried that anyone from any one of our countries would potentially biased, so we went for a man who is well known in all our countries.

"This year, Harry Potter will be joining us as a judge."

The doors in the back of the room pushed open, and a man somewhat on the short side, with a square jaw and dark hair beginning to go grey, with bright green eyes under round glasses walked in, a grin on his face. His hair was pushed back from his face, with a faded scar shaped like a lightning bolt still standing out on his forehead.

Al grinned and waved at his father, and his father waved back as he took the extra seat at the table. Murmurs that had broken out across the tables subsided.

"Pleasure to be here," Harry said, smiling at the students. "Been long since I've sat in this hall." Harry turned and, with a broad smile, shook Madame Maxime's substantial hand, and hugged McGonagall. He nodded and clasped hands with Professor Gomez and Balakov before settling down in his seat.

"In any case," McGonagall continued, still smiling faintly. "You will have until the evening of Hallows Eve to put your name in the goblet, and at the Halloween Feast that night we will pull the names to recognize our champions. But, for now, let's eat!"

The shimmering platters filled with mountains of elaborately baked foods, and Al turned to sit properly, piling foot on his plate.

"Dad's here! This is great!" Lily said across the table enthusiastically, piling slices of spiced ham and roast turkey onto her plate, and a generous helping of cheese-potatoes.

"Yeah," Al said with a lopsided grin, glancing up. He noticed that, next to Lily and directly across from him, Belle was looking incredibly pale. She hadn't touched the food on the table, and there was a look of absolute horror in her eyes, and she fixed the table with a stare, her mouth open slightly.

"Belle?" Al asked, frowning at her. She looked up at him, trying to find how to speak.

"Harry Potter," she choked out. "Here."

"Yeah, what about it?" he asked, his brows knitting together. She stood abruptly and ran from the hall. No one but Al and the others sitting around him noticed her leave, except for McGonagall. As Al began to stand to go after her, wondering what was wrong, he felt a hand light on his shoulder and saw McGonagall over his shoulder. She shook her head slightly and he sat back down, and she left the hall after Belle. At the door, she turned and glanced over her shoulder, and beckoned for Harry to follow. He nodded, stood, and followed.

* * *

><p>"Belle," McGonagall's voice said, and Belle froze halfway up the stairs. She looked slowly over her shoulder, and saw McGonagall and Harry Potter standing by the closed door to the dining hall. Her eyes widened, but she didn't move.<p>

"Belle, please come down here. There is someone here you should meet," McGonagall said, and Belle forced herself down the stairs, her eyes fixed on Harry's face. Harry looked slightly confused, but his eyes were narrowed as he watched her.

"Who's this?" Harry asked, in a kind enough voice.

"This," McGonagall said, placing a hand on Belle's shoulder and steering her closer to Harry, "Is Bellatrix Riddle."

Harry stiffened like a board, eyes narrowing so much they became disks of pure emerald.

"Interesting," he said, his voice still calm. "I assume it's a family name? Yes, of course; she has Bellatrix's hair."

"Bellatrix was her grandmother," McGonagall consented, "And do you wish to take a stab at who her grandfather was?"

"I am supposing," he said slowly, "that it was not Bellatrix's husband. No, no, of course not; I can see him in her face. Tom Riddle, then?"

"Yes," McGonagall said, and Harry visibly flinched. Belle jerked her gaze away, and fixed it determinedly on her own toes.

"I'm also going to assume she is nothing like her blood," he said quite calmly, "Or else she would not be in Gryffindor house."

"I renounce my blood," Belle declared hotly, glaring up at him. "I want nothing to do with them."

"Good, good," Harry nodded. "Gryffindor is for the brave, and for the good... And I've never known the sorting hat to make a mistake. So, what was the point of this?" he turned to McGonagall.

"I assumed you'd like to know," McGonagall said with a raised eyebrow.

"Considering she has no allegiance with her grandparents, nor could she considering she was born long after they were both dead, and she renounces her blood... how should this make her any different from any other student?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow in response. "I did not wish to be judged by my father, especially from his school years, so I shall not judge her by her blood either."

"Of course," McGongall said with a smile. "So it's settled. Will you be returning to the feast with us, then, Belle?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I couldn't explain to the others why I left, so I'll go to the tower and say I felt ill."

"Alright, then," McGonagall nodded, turning to Harry. "Shall we return to the feast, then?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry said, grinning. Together, they turned and reentered the hall, leaving Belle alone at the foot of the stairs. Slowly, she turned and made her way up to Gryffindor tower, a bewildered expression on her face. But inside, her heart was soaring.

Even Harry Potter didn't mind her blood.


	9. Chapter 9

**_"Curiosity is not a sin… But we should exercise caution with our curiosity… yes, indeed."_**

* * *

><p>When they got back up to the tower after the feast, Belle was sitting in a chair gazing happily out the window towards the lake.<p>

"So what was up earlier?" Al asked, sitting down in a chair opposite her.

"I wasn't feeling well," she said, smiling out the window. The setting sun lit her face and wreathed her black curly hair with gold and twinkled in her eyes. "But it's such a beautiful day and a beautiful view, I feel tons better."

"Well, that's good," Al said.

"Hey, Rosie, have you got the Charms essay done yet? I don't know what to write in mine..." Jake started, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. Rosie sighed and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't keep the smile from ghosting across her face. She turned on her heel and walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Jake grabbed his bag from a nearby table and reached through it for his roll of parchment, which so far just had the words "Jake Longbottom" on it. Al smirked and shook his head.

"Well I don't suppose YOU have gotten along much further," Jake huffed.

"As a matter of fact, I've gotten the introduction and two paragraphs done," Al said.

"Well fine then, Belle, I bet YOU haven't gotten that far. Belle and I are on the same page, isn't that right, Belle?" Jake said, turning his attention to her.

"Hm?" she asked, turning away from the window. "Oh, actually, I'm done."

"DONE?" Jake demanded, his eyes near bugging out of his head. "But we just got it yesterday!"

"Yeah, I was bored," Belle said with a shrug.

"Bored," Jake scoffed, shaking his head.

"Here," Rosie's voice came from behind the chair and Jake flinched, then shot her an angry look.

"Bloody hell," he swore, "I wish you wouldn't DO that!"

"Do what?" Rosie said innocently, handing him a neat roll of parchment.

"Sneak up like that!" he said, settling down with his own quill and parchment. "You could at least make a sound like a cough or something!"

"Oh, but that's no fun," she scoffed, pulling up another chair and sitting on it.

"Fun," Jake grumbled in disbelief, his quill scratching away at his parchment. The portrait hole slammed open with a bang, and James bounded in, closely followed by Fred and Louis. James was grinning so wide his dimples were like creases in his cheeks, and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses.

"We put our names in!" he declared happily, receiving a cheer from the Gryffindors that were sitting around the common room. Al looked at them and smiled an exasperated smile; now it was just a question of who would be drawn.

* * *

><p>"Si-LENCE!" Professor McGonagall's voice echoed around the Great Hall, and the students of the four schools fell silent. The clanking of forks being placed on dessert plates echoed around the hall and the light of the jack-o-lantern's flickering across the plates.<p>

The Goblet of Fire stood on the dais in front of the podium, it's fire raging up and casting shadows across McGonagall's face. "It is time to announce the champions for the Tournament." In the silence of the next thirty seconds, you could have heard a spoon drop. Then the crackle of the fire raged up and turned blue, and in a loud crack and plume of smoke, a charred piece of paper rose into the air and fell into McGonagall's outstretched hand.

"The champion of Durmstrang will be... Vsevolod Yovkov," her voice reached seemingly effortlessly to the corners of the room. "Vsevolod, please come to the front and follow Professor Balakov through the door, and when the rest of the champions arrive, we will explain the details of the tournament to you."

A young man stood from the end of the Ravenclaw table where the Durmstrang students were sitting. He was tall and broad shouldered with short, straight black hair and thick brows that furrowed in the middle, but he had a kind lilt to her mouth and a calm confidence to his stride. He walked up to the dais and shook McGonagall's hand before following Balakov through the door.

The fire spat blue again, and she caught another slip of paper. "And the representative of Magia is... Esmeralda Arroyo. Please follow Professor Gomez, Esmeralda." A slight blonde girl with steel-grey eyes stood, her cloak still making her seem to melt into the background even against the grey stone of the Hall. The Magia students clapped and the sound of their applause seemed to come from all directions. She padded to the front of the room without a sound and glided after Professor Gomez through the door.

Another piece of paper drifted through the air. "From Hogwarts, our champion will be... James Potter," McGonagall said, and applause broke out from the Gryffindor table as James stood. He ran down the isle between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables and highfived students on either side, bouncing up to the dais happily. "Please go through the doors, James, and I will meet you there shortly." James nodded, and walked through the door. As it closed behind him, the final rage of fire rose up and the last piece of paper fell into McGonagall's hand.

"And from Beauxbatons, the representative will be... Armela Chevalier," McGonagall said, and a thin girl a bit taller than James stood, with mousy brown hair hanging in his face. She had wide, innocent eyes, and seemed to be walking in shoes too big for her feet that flopped on the floor as she walked up to the front of the hall. "Armela, please follow Madame Maxime, if you would, through those doors. And if the rest of you will be ever so patient, we will return shortly," McGonagall said, and Madame Maxime, McGonagall, and the girl all disappeared behind the doors.


	10. Chapter 10

_**"I think I'll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up - it always does in the end." **_

* * *

><p>Rosie sat with the basilisk in her lap, humming happily to herself as she tied a cloth around its eyes. The snakes had gotten about three feet long now, and they wouldn't kill you with their eyes but they could paralyze you, so Hagrid decided it was best to cover their eyes. The snake Hagrid had hatched for Al was relatively close to the same age, but it wasn't to the point where it'd paralyze him yet. He leaned back against the cabin, stroking it's head. It made a strange purring sound, and he glanced around at the others. Many of them were having problems with their snakes, some snakes were striking and some were hissing and others were trying to escape their blindfold. Al had never felt so glad he could speak parseltongue before.<p>

Al heard footsteps on crunchy gravel come around the corner of the cabin, and one of the Professors Al didn't know sprinted into view. "HAGRID!" she gasped out, "Hagrid!" She put her hands on her knees, her cloak falling around her face as she bent to catch her breath. Hagrid straightened from where he was sitting helping Scorpio with his basilisk, his brows knitted together.

"Yes'm, Trewlany?" he asked, brushing his coat flat with his huge hands.

"Hagrid, put the snakes away- immediately, all of them!" she said, straightening. Her eyes were huge and magnified behind thick lenses, and the scarf around her head was askew.

"What's wron'?" Hagrid asked worriedly, motioning for the students to put their snakes back in the crates.

"A student has been found- petrified- on the Durmstrang ship!" she said. "They suspect basilisks!"

"Nonsense! 'ey've all been 'ere, had meh eyes on 'em the whole 'ime!" Hagrid said, his beard trembling with his words.

"It's true, nonetheless! We need Miss Ri-... you know who in the teachers lounge - or better yet, on the ship... Where is she?" Trewlany said, her eyes scanning through the students.

"She- ah-" Hagrid said, fumbling for an answer. Al glanced up from putting his snake in the crate, and realized that indeed, Belle wasn't there. He hadn't even noticed, she was normally so quiet. "I, ah, don' know." Trewlany's eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Students are supposed to go directly to their dormitories. All the staff is to meet at the Durmstrang ship. If you do see Miss Riddle, please take her with you to the ship..." Trewlany trailed off, spun on her heel and hiked back to the castle.

"What do they want with Belle?" Jake whispered in Al's ear. Al jumped; he hadn't heard Jake come up behind him.

"I don't know," Al responded, sealing his snake back into its crate. "Maybe... she has a thing for snakes, you know, how she's so calm around her snake."

"That doesn't make sense, if they were thinking like that then they should have gone for you or Lily. Both of you can TALK to snakes, you don't just 'have a thing for them'." Jake responded.

"True," Al conceded. Rosie joined them, and together they went up to the castle behind Hagrid. Hagrid turned in front of the door, and without a word pointed them up the steps before continuing on down to the Durmstrang ship. They made their way through the entry hall an up the staircase. On the second floor, they ran into the champion for Magia, Esmeralda.

"Did you hear?" she asked in a thick spanish accent. "Encontraron un chico! El iban paralizaba!"

"Sorry?" Al asked, frowning. She stared at him blankly before realizing that he didn't speak Spanish.

"They found a boy, he was paralyzed!" she translated, "Did you hear?"

"Yeah, he's from Durmstrang, isn't he?" Jake added. The girl nodded frantically.

"Hey, let us know what happens, ok?" Al said, and they continued up the stairs. At the third floor, someone ran into them from a corridor to the left. All the books in her arms fell to the floor, and as they bent to sort them out, Al caught a look at the other person. "Belle?"

"Hullo," she said, pushing her hair out of her face and picking her books back up. "Class isn't over yet, what are you doing?"

"Um, someone was found paralyzed," Al said, standing. "They want you down at the Durmstrang ship."

"Why?" she asked, her green eyes wide with bewilderment.

"I dunno, they don't want anyone but the staff down there, and you. That's where they found whoever it was," Al explained.

"Um, alright... could you take my books back up to the commons for me?" she asked.

"Sure," Jake said, and they each took some of the books and walked up the stairs, Belle's footsteps receding behind them.

* * *

><p>Belle was breathing hard when she made it to the dock of the Durmstrang ship. She paused for a moment to catch her breath and pushed her hair out of her face. The wind whipped around her face with the promise of winter in the air, the bite of a lake breeze flushing her cheeks. She knelt to tie her shoe, and from up on the ship she could hear someone announce her arrival. She glanced up and pushed her hair away again, finally giving up and pulling it back into her usual ponytail. She glided to her feet and padded up the board walk to the deck, and there she saw many people crowding in a circle. In the middle of the circle, a boy (who was rather small for a Durmstrang student) was lying, with his eyes wide open, an a look of fright on frozen on his face. Madam Pomfrey was kneeling over him, checking his pulse and making sure he was alright except for the apparent paralysis. The staff gave her cold looks, some fearful, some disgusted. Some looked at her with confusion, and some not at all. The headmasters of all the schools were there, and Harry Potter was too. Harry was one of the ones who wasn't looking at her at all, and it made Belle's stomach turn with anxiety.<p>

"Belle," Professor McGonagall said. She was one of the only ones there that didn't look at her with distrust. "Belle, do you know anything about this?"

"Pardon, Professor?" Belle asked, glancing at the boy again. "I heard someone was found, paralyzed, that's all I know."

"And just HOW did you hear this?" A teacher with eyes magnified behind huge lenses, with frizzy hair stepped forward.

"Al told me- Albus- when he told me you wanted me here..." Belle trailed off awkwardly.

"Why did he have to tell you? Why weren't you in class? Where WERE you?" the teacher with the glasses demanded.

"I was in the library," Belle replied.

"During CLASS?" the teacher retorted.

"Yeah, I had wanted to look something up..."

"Without a teacher's permission?"

"Um... yeah... sorry," Belle said, glancing around at the teachers awkwardly. She had known ditching class was a bad idea, but she had a lead on the Triwizard tournament to help James - she had never thought it would give her a worse reprimand than detention. "But, what does this got to do with... why... what's going on?"

"Some of the staff are under the impression that you have something to do with this business," McGonagall said, throwing a disapproving look at the other teachers, "Considering your heritage and your ability to speak with snakes."

"Profesur, forgi'me, bu' I don' see how she could'a done it- the snakes've been wi' me the 'ole while, yeh see, an' I would'a seen sum'un comin' in an' messin' with them, much less takin' one," Hagrid intervened, fiddling with his big hands awkwardly. "'specially considerin tha' there was a bunch 'o other students there when this was 'appenin'..."

"Hagrid, we know and took that into account," the woman with the glasses cut Hagrid off. Belle decided this woman must have been heading the argument against her, and decided that she most certainly did _not _like her. "Madam Pomfrey had mentioned a while back now that a snake had indeed ESCAPED, and was never found? She said that when the snake escaped, it bit the younger Potter boy."

"Well yes'm bu' it couldn't've survived much on it's own, yeh see..."

"And Albus has the gift of parseltongue so it shouldn't have bitten him, since he could control it," the woman continued. "UNLESS, perhaps, another parselmouth wrested control from him? Tell us, Bellatrix, are you a parselmouth?"

"Trewlany!" McGonagall snapped, giving the professor a reprimanding glare. "You know perfectly well not to call the girl that. Her name is Belle."

"Terribly sorry... BELLE, are you a parselmouth?" the woman - Professor Trewlany- said, turning to look Belle in the eye. Belle tore her eyes away and stared fixedly at her shoes.

"muhbeh," Belle mumbled.

"Pardon, what was that?"

Belle looked up and steeled herself, fixing her face firmly on Trewlany. "Maybe."

"Maybe? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Yes, I am. I can talk to snakes, if that's what you mean," Belle said, setting her shoulders. McGonagall's face crumpled and her defense of Belle died on her lips. "But that doesn't mean I did it," Belle said in the silence, scrambling for some way to defend herself against their judgmental gaze. "Al can do it. So can his sister Lily. Doesn't mean they did it, now, does it?"

"Al and Lily couldn't, they were both in class at the time- I know, because Lily was in my class and when I ran to get Hagrid Al was there, but yet... strangely, conveniently, you weren't," Trewlany said, moving her hand to her chin. Belle felt the blood rush to her face.

"There isn't any proof," McGonagall said, putting her last cards on the table. "And as such, you can not punish her and you will not try to ruin her reputation with the other students. Are we clear?"

Trewlany turned and glared at Professor McGonagall. "Crystal - but the investigation will continue."

"Naturally," McGonagall said, her voice icy.

"I'll, er, walk yeh up to the s'ool if yeh wan', Belle," Hagrid said, awkwardly.

"Actually, I was hoping you would carry the boy for us, Hagrid," Trewlany said.

"I'm sure we can manage to carry him with some magic," McGonagall said icily. "We are witches after all." Her voice softened, "Hagrid, you can go with her if you'd like."

Hagrid looked at Belle in question, and Belle nodded back thankfully. Together, they walked off the ship. The second their feet were on solid ground, the ship behind them erupted in arguments and conversations. Belle fought the urge to look back, and Hagrid put his hand on her shoulder (in what he figured was a comforting gesture, though her entire shoulder disappeared in his hand) and together they walked up to the castle.


	11. Chapter 11

_**"Who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"**_

* * *

><p>When Belle and Hagrid finally made it up to the Gryffindor commons, Al, Jake, and Rosie were sitting in a corner, working on their homework. They glanced up as the portrait hole swung open, and were on their feet in a heartbeat.<p>

"Belle, what happened? What did they want you for?" Al said, beating the others to the question. Belle was saved from speaking by Hagrid forcing his way through the portrait hole behind her. "Hagrid? What are you doing up here?"

"I wan'd ter make sure she made it all the way here all 'ight," Hagrid responded, stooping his head a bit to avoid brushing the candles hanging from the ceilings. "They wan'd ter tal' ter her because she was... top of 'er Healer class from where she transferred, an' wan'd 'er opinion on the paralysis." The half a beat he hesitated before his lie was only noticed by Belle, and she was grateful for his protection. She didn't want to have to explain to the others, though from the look in Rosie's eyes she had already put two and two together. Belle felt a surge of relief that she didn't see any condemnation in Rosie's eyes, and neither Al nor Jake looked like they had half a clue.

"Oh, that's cool," Jake said. "Maybe you could help us with our healing potions work then?" His eyes were hopeful and innocent, but Belle knew he had his fingers crossed behind his back.

"Maybe later," Belle said, smothering a smile. "I'm tired."

"Me too," Rosie said quickly, and the girls disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Oh, Al," Hagrid said, turning his gaze to Al. "Yer da' wan'd a wor' with ya, when ya got a chance."

"Alright, where is he?"Al said, collecting the books he had gracelessly dumped on the floor when he surged to his feet.

"E's prob'ly still down at the boa', yeh shoul' catch 'im if yeh hurry," Hagrid said, gesturing with his paw of a hand to the door. "After yeh." Al nodded and slid through the porthole. He started down the stairs with Hagrid grunting behind him as he squeezed out of the portrait hole. Paintings passed by, and each image was like a portal into a different time and piece of mind, different worlds. It always awed Al, all the different images, and how they all fit together. Stairs flew by beneath his feet and eventually, he found his way through the entry hall and ran into his father. Harry's face was crumpled and tired, with faint purple marks going under his eyes that were hidden behind his glasses. His hair was slightly messier than usual and his shoulders seemed to have a slump to them that Al hadn't seen before.

Harry nodded at Al and put his hand on his son's shoulder, guiding Al over to the side of the entry hall where others wouldn't overhear their conversation. Harry wasn't tall but he seemed to look down at Al, even though Al was taller. Not in a bad way, but in the way a father would look down at a child. It was as though a father was about to tell a small child that they couldn't go to see the movies because they had work to do, and he knew the child would be disappointed. Al's mind filled with worry, wondering what would make his father look so defeated.

"Al..." Harry said with a sigh. He paused for a moment, working his mouth before continuing. "I would like for you to try and maintain your distance from Belle. There is reason to believe... she's up to no good. For your own sake, keep you and your sister away from her. I don't want you in jeopardy."

Al's mind spun, processing what his dad was telling him. "But... why? Dad, have you seen her? She's hardly capable of beating even Lily up, she's not an overly strong witch. After all, she's an untrained muggle-born and all..."

"You know what I've told you about stereotypes," Harry said sharply. "Did she tell you she was muggle-born?"

"Well... now that I think about it, no, but... she has to be, who else would have the last name of Riddle?"

"She hasn't told you?" Harry asked, semi-surprised.

"Told me what?"

"It's not my place to tell," Harry's eyebrows lowered into a frown. "Just keep your distance."

"But, why?"

"Just trust me on this," Harry said. Al heard the pain in his father's voice, and didn't argue further.

"I'll be careful, but I won't avoid her," Al said. Harry gave a disgruntled groan, but left it at that.

"Be very, very careful. I have to go help organize the first task for the tournament. Watch your back, Al," Harry said, clapping his son on the shoulder. Harry turned and walked across the entry hall to join the other judges. Al's mind was whirling, trying to figure out what his father had meant. He didn't want to avoid Belle but he didn't want to disobey his dad like this, especially considering whenever people had thought Harry was lying/crazy in the past, he'd always been right.

So, with some qualms, he decided he would try to distance himself from Belle. Outside, thunder roared. A girl fluttered down the stairs in unhurried steps that he recognized as Esmeralda, from Magia. She recognized him, smiled and waved, then turned her attention to a particularly odd painting. He walked over to her and looked at the painting as well, until the odd man featured in the painting yelled at them to go away. Al laughed, softly, and Esmeralda just rolled her eyes at the painting.

"So are brother of James?" she asked in rough English, with a heavy Spanish accent.

"Yes. And you're who he's going to be fighting against?" Al replied, looking at the small blonde girl. If it was a battle of strength, Al thought James would have won easily, but something about the girl's grey eyes made him cringe inside at the thought of duelling her. Her eyes had a depth to them that spoke of secret knowledge, and he had the unsettling feeling that she was a very powerful witch. But her eyes had a warm and kind twinkle to them, almost innocent, that made him also believe that she didn't intend to hurt anyone with her powers.

They wandered from painting to painting, having a conversation with no real topic in a rough exchange of Spanish and English. After a while, Esmeralda left and James found him.

"Consorting with the enemy, are we?" James joked, nudging Al lightly in the ribs. Al grinned, and glanced back at the door Esmeralda was standing by talking to a boy from Magia.

"You might have some trouble with that one," Al replied. "She doesn't seem like she'd go down without a fight."

"C'mon, she's so tiny I could squish her with my big toe!" James bellowed, trying to keep from laughing too hard.

"AM NOT!" Esmeralda's voice boomed off the walls, and they turned to see her with her hands cupped around her mouth, trying to conceal a grin. "You most certain cannot, James Potter! Watch, I will make eat your words."

"Bring it on!" James replied with an equally large grin.

With a start, Al realized that the dinner toll was ringing. The day had gone quickly, quicker than he'd thought. How much time had he spent talking to Esmeralda and his dad? Apparently, more than he'd thought. James grabbed Al around the shoulders and started off towards the Dining Hall. Amazing how time moved in such an exciting day.


	12. Chapter 12

_**"It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be."**_

* * *

><p>Belle and Rosie came down late to dinner, which only made Al all the more confused. This entire business was very sketchy, and more importantly, no one seemed to want to <em>tell <em>him anything. Belle's face was pale with pink marks on her cheeks, and she was clearly a little upset; his father's words continued floating around his head, but he couldn't figure out for the life of him how Belle could be a danger to him. She wasn't a very strong witch, and if it was a physical fight he knew he'd win. She was smart, and she took her studies very seriously - she obviously wanted to be here - but she didn't have the natural raw power that some witches and wizards had. Like his father had, or like James had, or like that girl from Magia had. Even if Belle wanted to hurt him, he didn't think she'd be able do; and he didn't think she wanted to.

Belle caught his gaze and looked away quickly, and he glanced down at his plate.

"Oh, James!" Belle said suddenly, looking up at Al's elder brother. "I just remembered. Earlier today I was in the library doing some research on the Tri-Wizard tournament, and I think I found a pattern."

"Pattern?" James said, sitting forward curiously and temporarily forgetting his fried chicken.

"Yes. What I can tell so far is that, ever time in the past, they use each of the four elements once," Belle continued eagerly. "If you remember Harry's tournament, they used fire and air in the challenge with the dragon, water in the challenge in the lake, and earth with the maze. That pattern holds true for every year before it, too, even though the challenges were different each time."

"But the tournament is different this year," James said, frowning a bit. "We have four champions from four schools, so they decided to have four challenges. Remember?"

"Yeah, but there are still four elements," Belle pointed out. "So, one for each challenge. Therefore, you will either have a task all about fire, water, air, or earth for your first one."

"Well, that doesn't narrow it down an awful lot," James huffed, dropping his chin into his hand.

"Of course it does," Belle said crossly. "In all of the tournaments, the fire or air comes first. So, either fire or air will be your first task. And with every task after that, the list will get narrower and narrower."

"Oh." James perked back up. "And because the last one is the one that decides the victor, I'll know exactly which element it revolves around!"

"Shh, shh!" Belle whispered, glancing at the other end of the table where the Magia students sat, talking in quiet Spanish tones. "You don't want to give up your advantage, do you?"

"How has no one noticed that before?" Rosie asked, looking at Belle curiously. "I mean, how is it not common knowledge, if every tournament has followed that pattern?"

"Well, I mean, aside from the tournament in 1994, the last one before that was in 1792. People might've known the pattern way back then, but it's kinda still a new thing to us," Belle answered. "I doubt people really did their research before joining, either, or if they did they only read up on Harry Potter's tournament."

"True," James said ruefully, and Al rolled his eyes; James obviously hadn't done his research before joining. "I mean, not that I wouldn't have read up on it or anything..."

"But you didn't," Rosie finished. "You know, James, before risking your life you might want to do your research."

"Hey, it's not like anyone else did it!" James said defensively, and Rosie just sighed at him.

"Sometimes I can't believe I'm related to you," she said with exasperation, and her cousin just responded by sticking his tongue out.

"Anyway," Belle said, trying to continue the old conversation. "We also know the first task won't be dragons, because it's different every year. So it's something to do with fire or air, and it doesn't have dragons. Or at least, you're not trying to steal an egg from one."

"Well that's good to know," James said. "That always sounded like the worst one to me... the easiest to die."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" Al said, and Belle gave a nod.

"It's not like we have long to wait," Jake cut in, his mouth still full of half-chewed chicken. "It's mid-November already, and the first task is supposed to be near the end of this month. We've got what, a week and a half?"

"Just about," James agreed. The platters cleared themselves and were replaced by towers of dessert.

"James!" a voice called, and Al looked around and saw Esmeralda waving at James from the other end of the table. James waved back with a grin, and Esmeralda got up to come sit in an empty seat near them.

"How are?" she asked, smiling at him and putting a slice of cake on her plate that was so huge Al didn't believe she'd be able to eat it - she was tiny. "Are looking forward to first tournament?"

"The first challenge? Yeah," James said, smiling. "I'm gonna hand you your arse on a silver platter." Esmeralda looked confused briefly, unfamiliar with the expression, before a grin broke out on her face.

"Te voy a dar en tu pinche madre," she responded, and Belle abruptly snorted pumpkin juice through her nose, but no one else knew what Esmeralda had said.

"What?" Al asked, looking at Belle for a translation.

"I'm not saying that in English," Belle said, gripping her sides. "It'd make Jake's language seem like an angel by comparison!" Esmeralda laughed in response.

"You speak Spanish?" Esmeralda laughed, looking at Belle.

"Well she ought to, she went to your school for four years," Jake said, digging in to his slice of cake.

"Sorry?" Esmeralda asked, her brow furrowing.

"You know, she went to your school," Jake continued. "She only transferred here this year."

"Lo siento," Esmeralda said slowly. "This is embarrassing. I'm afraid I not do remember you." Belle was looking at Esmeralda with wide eyes, her face flushed a panicked shade of pink.

"I wasn't in your year," Belle said quickly. "I was quiet anyway. No one noticed me much. I don't blame you."

"Must be," Esmeralda said, shrugging it off and flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder before digging into her absurdly huge slice of cake. "The first challenge, es exciting, no?" She turned her attention back to James. "Any ideas as what it can be?"

"Nah, it'll be a surprise," James said quickly, and she glanced at him with a slight frown before eating another bite of cake.

"Ah. We think it will be with brooms," Esmeralda said companionably. "Like with the fly? I not know the word in English..."

"Quidditch brooms?" Al asked. "What makes you say that?"

"We saw them today," Esmeralda said in a _duh _tone, as though everyone knew that. "Packages carried in by four owls, each shaped like broom. Four owls, four tributes."

"That would make sense," Belle said thoughtfully, and Esmeralda scraped her fork along her plate, eating the last bite of her cake. Al stared at her with surprise; she had eaten a slice of cake the size of her head in only a couple minutes. Esmeralda caught his stare and smiled back sheepishly, putting her chocolate-covered fork back on her plate. As Al watched her, he decided he liked her; she seemed like a good person, and like she would be a good friend. Almost as though she heard his thoughts, she smiled at him again.

"Well, should go," Esmeralda said, swinging her legs out of the confines of the bench. "It is time we retire for the night."

"Where have you guys been, though?" Al asked curiously. "I mean, Durmstrang is staying on their ship, I think Beauxbatons is in their carriages." Esmeralda's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Es a secret," she said. The other Magia students at the end of the table stood, and Esmeralda pulled her hood over her blonde hair, masking her grey eyes in shadow. "I will be seeing you soon."

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, I know, it's been three years, but somehow I still remember the plot I was planning on. I'm basically Satan. Oh well. I was feeling the Harry Potter vibe and realized I'd never finished this - leave a review if you think I should continue, otherwise I might just do another story or some one shots or something. <strong>


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**"And for you, Mr. Potter... The Hungarian Horntail."**

* * *

><p>Harry couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He had told Belle that he wouldn't judge her by her parentage, and then he went and did just that by telling his son to stay away from her. <em>But circumstances changed, <em>he told himself. A kid had been found paralyzed, no doubt by a basilisk, and the only basilisks were the ones that Hagrid was working with... and the one that had escaped. And a snake that had escaped wouldn't have been able to survive on its own, someone would've had to find it and help it by feeding it. And more importantly, the only way someone would've been able to do that would be if they were a parselmouth. Now, there were only three of those in the school - Al, Lily, and Belle. And Al and Lily were accounted for, and besides, he trusted his children.

He tried very hard to come up with another explanation, but he couldn't find one. It had to be Belle.

But McGonagall trusted her so much... And McGonagall's trust was very rarely misplaced. Then again, she didn't notice that Quirrel was Voldemort, or that anything was wrong with Moody in his fourth year. Maybe McGonagall's judgement wasn't the best. And maybe the girl wasn't bad to begin with; maybe as a small child she was truly good.

But after five years of being told she was evil and wouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts because of it, she might've started to believe them.

But she had seemed so genuine, so relieved when Harry had told her he wouldn't judge her by her blood... Maybe the relief was for another reason, though. Maybe she was relieved that if she did something evil, no one would be able to call her out without seeming like a bigot. Maybe it was just to protect herself.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear away the thoughts; maybe the girl was evil, maybe she wasn't. It's not like _he _was the best judge of character, either, he had been mistaken several times during his school years. Maybe it was a huge coincidence, and she would prove herself. After all, she would have to have motivation to do something evil, and what could her motivation possibly be? The warning to his son still stood, but he wouldn't try to ruin anything until he had more information. Besides, Al could take care of himself - Harry had made sure of that.

"Harry, dear." McGonagall's voice roused him from his thoughts and he looked at her with some surprise. "Are you ready to come help us set up the first task for the tournament?"

"Of course."

* * *

><p>Over the course of the past week, Belle had become James' partner in all things tournament related. Her research on the tournament as a whole put her in an excellent position for them to spend time training and practicing, which Al and Lily often joined in on. Since they knew the first challenge had to do with brooms, this basically meant that Al and Lily got to spend a couple hours trying to knock James off his broom, which they enjoyed immensely - James, not so much. By the time the first task rolled around, James wasn't sure how to feel about it; he was confident and excited, but he also felt like he had no idea what he was actually getting into.<p>

The morning of the first task, James bounced anxiously on his heels. He was wearing black quidditch pants and a red gryffindor shirt. Over his shirt he had a garment that was somewhere between a jacket and a cloak - essentially a shortened cloak so that it wouldn't hinder him in the task ahead. It was black and had the Hogwarts crest on the back of it, identifying him as the Hogwarts Champion. Pads like the ones they wore in Quidditch covered his legs and arms, and heavy laced boots hung from his feet.

"Are you ready?" Belle asked eagerly, and he answered her with an uncertain smile.

"Come on, you'll do brilliantly. No one else has been practicing for it like you have," Belle offered reassuringly.

"Yeah, but most of them don't suck at quidditch, so they don't need to," James responded. "I mean, if I didn't suck at quidditch, I'd be on the Gryffindor quidditch team with Al and Lily, wouldn't I?"

"Don't be silly, I'm sure you'd beat me at quidditch any day," Belle replied. "And I doubt it's going to be the actual sport _quidditch, _it'll just be something with a broom - and you can fly splendidly."

"True," James said, grinning broadly, and Belle couldn't help but roll her eyes at his arrogance.

"Oi, are you coming?" Jake yelled, poking his head through the portrait hole.

"Coming," James and Belle said together, then laughed slightly.

"After you, sir Champion." Belle gestured to the open portrait hole, and James strode through it with a grin on his face, Belle following him through the portrait. Belle, James, Jake, Al, Lily and Rosie all walked down to the hall together, laughing and chatting the entire way. In the Hall, McGonagall separated James from them.

"We'll see you out there, good luck!" Lily called, waving at her older brother. James waved back and watched them leave the hall, then stood with Armela and Vsevolod to wait for Esmeralda. Vsevolod was very quiet, and Armela didn't try to start any conversations either. After about five minutes, Esmeralda ran into the hall, still pulling her camo cloak on over her clothing.

"Sorry, am late?" she asked, breathing hard.

"Not very," McGonagall said.

"Good," she said, grinning broadly. "James, es good to see you!"

"Aye," James said, smiling back. "Good to see someone who likes to talk." He looked at Armela and Vsevolod pointedly; Vsevolod didn't react, and Armela just rolled her eyes. He was starting to wonder if Vsevolod actually spoke English, the man was so silent.

"Talking is good," Esmeralda answered. "Are we to be going?"

"Yes, if you four would follow me," McGonagall said, then turned on her heel and walked across the Hall away from the broad doors that led outside. Instead, she went down a flight of stairs and out a small door that dumped them outside by the lake, which put the castle squarely between them and the first challenge, so they couldn't see anything. To their left was a propped up tunnel made out of heavy canvas, and the tunnel curved around the castle towards the first challenge.

"We'll walk through here so you don't see anything you shouldn't," McGonagall said by way of explanation. "This will be an individual test, so you will go one at a time, and we don't want to give the last person an advantage by knowing what to expect."

"Ohs, an individual test," Esmeralda whispered, and they followed McGonagall into the tunnel. Once they stepped inside, everything was suddenly much quieter; the only sounds were their footsteps and breaths, all sounds from the outside world vanished.

"We don't want any sounds to give anything away, either," McGonagall said as they continued their trek into the tunnel. Eventually, the tunnel opened into a large tent where Madame Maxime, Professor Balakov, and Professor Gomez were waiting. A couple of women James didn't recognize were in there as well, one of whom had blonde curls with a few grey and white strands, the other had straight brown hair and wore a crisp Ministry suit.

"Rita Skeeter," the blonde woman said, flashing a too-white smile as she extended a hand towards James for him to shake. He recognized the name immediately, and elected not to shake her hand; Harry had had no shortage of stories about Miss Skeeter. Awkwardly, she shifted her hand to shake Esmeralda's hand instead.

"Miss Skeeter is just here to observe shortly," McGonagall said sharply, and Rita Skeeter nodded.

"I'll observe you lot before the round starts, and then I'll go up to watch the tournament from above," Rita said again.

"And the interviews won't be now. They'll be later," McGonagall continued. Rita pursed her lips, but just nodded again. McGonagall then gestured to the brunette woman, "This is Nina Abney from the Ministry. She will be staying in here with you while we judges are up there. Now, let's get down to business."

"Yes," Professor Gomez agreed. "This is an individual test, so only one Champion will be up there at a time. Once you have completed your challenge, you can watch the rest of the challenges but you cannot return to this tent. Everyone's challenge will be, more or less, the same challenge. It will test the same skills and abilities."

"And the rules are simple: do not involve the spectators, do your best to stay in the arena, and if you get injured or need to stop, just shoot red sparks from your wand and the challenge will end. You will lose by default, should you make that decision," Madame Maxime said, looking at them sternly.

"Now, that is as much as we can say," Professor Balakov continued. "So, it is time to get started, is it not?" McGonagall, Madame Maxime, and Professor Gomez nodded their agreement. Professor Balakov pulled a small bag from his coat pocket and opened it, then walked over to Armela. "Please draw one from inside." Armela reached her hand into the bag and when she pulled it out, she had a single miniature broom-stick in her hand.

"What number is on it?" Madame Maxime asked, and Armela looked closely at the handle.

"Two," she answered.

"You will go second, then," Professor Balakov said. He moved over to Vsevolod, who drew another broom from the bag - three. Esmeralda drew the broom with number one carved on it, which left James with the fourth broom.

"Good, now that we know what order you will go in, you need to disenchant your brooms," McGonagall said.

"Disenchant our brooms?" Esmeralda asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Yes. These are full sized broom sticks, but we shrunk them to make it easier to draw them from a bag," McGonagall answered. "As you should know, the countercharm is Engorgio. Now, Esmeralda, return your broom to normal and come with me. It's time for the task to begin."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! I'm still trying to figure out if people have any interest in me restarting the story, so feedback confirmingdenying that would be much appreciated.**


End file.
